taxonomites | 054 ± [visual / location: langwe & gale's] all our favorites were playing

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054 ± [visual / location: langwe & gale's] all our favorites were playing

Glitch is minding his own business, sitting at a drafting table in the workshop, tapping his pencil and...spacing out, mostly. This is not an unfamiliar state for him and so he thinks nothing of it, nor of the music he hears coming in from outside. He taps his pencil and bobs his head to the beat since it's nice and catchy and...getting louder.

Still he thinks nothing of it until he finds himself getting up to stand expectantly, the music so loud and clear he's convinced it's not outside at all but instead coming from all around him. Then comes the realization that this has happened before and--

"Oh no," he manages, and then this happens. It's a little jerkier than his usual dancing, complex and challenging and totally nonsensical, but...

Ding goes the bell on the front counter and he's twirling across the shop floor on a dolly, walking backwards up the steps toward the office and then he's springing and flipping across the floor to perch on a bench and-- oh. Hey. This is actually fun.

Until Glitch finds himself perched on one of the big pulley hooks, hanging on to the ropes as the mechanism lifts him to the overhead catwalks. Gracefully he swings off, lands on the platform, then starts to run with intent to dive off and fly around the shop--

He shouts and stops short, gripping the railing and gasping for breath. The music's gone as suddenly as it started and he shakes his head, thoroughly freaked out.

Once he's composed himself Glitch takes the stairs back to the floor and snatches up his tablet, turning on the visual in order to get the word out. Problem being whatever he'd planned to say vanishes and instead he finds himself singing.

"This is a public service anouncement, this is only a test," he begins, then grimaces and shakes his head again. "Okay, no, everyone...I dunno if it's happened to anyone else yet but that thing that happened a couple annuals ago? With the compulsive singing and dancing stuff? I think it's happening again."

He takes a deep breath and starts pacing as he looks up a particular broadcast, one of the ones he's saved. "I just did this whole dance routine around the shop - not like usual, there was music coming from nowhere. Stuff like that'll happen, and you might find yourself singing about stuff that you wouldn't ordinarily share." Pause. "Like...like this thing I'm linking from last time. Um. So be prepared for that. Dunno how long it'll last so...yeah. Good luck."

And yes he is totally prepared for questions.

OOC: Musical glitch get! Also the shop is open for people coming by later or if they'd been there for his little performance or whatever \o/

Also the line he sings is the opening of Green Day's "Warning", I am so making a hamsterball post to track this stuff.

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Skeptical Cain is skeptical. This is to say he was skeptical even when Glitch's message went out, but now he's watched the link, and there's one thing he just can't shake. He knows that tune from somewhere, and he can't for the life of him figure out where, and it rubs him the goddamn wrong way.

"...thanks for the heads up, Glitch. You okay?"

Ditto on the tune being both elusive and unnerving.

"Fine," he replies and scratches his beard. Oh hey, new tic. "It's pretty benign as far as their games go, just occasionally embarrassing. Less so for those of us who can carry a tune in a bucket."

Yeah, and the beard thing is never gonna stop being absolutely fascinating. In a weird, not entirely unpleasant way. He can vaguely, vaguely recall a time when facial hair wasn't so automatically connected to sadistic bastards, but it's a distant memory at best. Still. It's not like he didn't at one point consider growing one. Just for the heck of it.

"I'd think the level of embarrassment would hinge on content more than--"

There's a hoooole in the bucket...

He shakes his head. "Small favors, huh?"

Edited 2012-08-15 12:00 (UTC)

The Talk About The Beard will be interesting (if it happens).

Glitch offers a hint of a grin at that little pause and head shake. "Tiny ones, yeah. You okay there?"

"Uhuh. So far, no sign of a symphony orchestra spawning anywhere nearby."

...sock it. He can't keep his mouth shut.

"So, uh," he makes a vague little gesture at his own chin but looking at Glitch's.

"That for keeps, or...?"

Ah, well.

"For now," Glitch replies with a shrug and a little grin. Said facial fuzz, it must be noted, is rather well manicured. "Just...trying something new, y'know. I kinda like it, and--"

Yeah, sock it. Also casually lock the feed because Taxon's full of wildly discreet people. Or fully grown men who occasionally act like gossipy teenage girls. Same thing.

"There's a...a friend of mine, who likes it too."

Wyatt nods slowly, taking in the grin and the overall appearance of his best friend - he looks...happy. Healthy, full of spark, and would you look at that, a locked feed?

Wyatt gives the other guy a small moue of okay then, a similarly small hum to that effect, and locks the feed right back. Plot thickening, intrigue on the rise, and so on and so forth.

And that last bit makes Wyatt grin. "Friends are good."

Mhmm. Friends with a capital effing 'f', if you go by that glint in Glitch's eye.

"It looks nice," he notes, deciding a compliment is exactly right, right then and right there. ...and a bit of friendly digging, of course. Professional habit, can't help it. Shh.

"Well groomed."

Happy, healthy, and sparky all apply, yes. Glitch had fallen from a great height but instead of being dashed on the rocks he's bounced right back up again, much to his own surprise.

"Thanks, I got some lessons on upkeep." Ayup, the compliment's appreciated and there's some preening. Then Glitch sobers, very slightly. "Wanna continue your questioning in person? Lunch at the Black Friar?"

Lessons in upkeep, huh?

"Sure," says Wyatt with a nod and a fonder smile than the cheeky grin of before. "I'll meet you there."

~

Lunchtime rolls around, and Wyatt comes walking along the street, keeping an eye out for his neat-bearded friend. He's curious, can't help it and won't deny it. He knows Glitch is fond of a few people still in Taxon, and he's drawn up a few likely candidates to the forefront of his mind, but he won't jump to premature conclusions or let his preconceptions get in the way. This is Glitch's moment, his ball court, his game, and Wyatt's there as a guest and a friend.

Most importantly, he's a friend; and a fellow Ozian. Somehow, that feels like it makes all the difference.

Edited 2012-08-19 17:40 (UTC)

Glitch has made good on his threat to purchase a bicycle (second hand but serviceable) and so after flipping the shop's sign to "closed" he rides to the pub.

Yes, the bike has a bell. Yes, it gets rung cheerfully when he spots Cain.

"Hi," he says and hops off to park the bike. "Good timing. Any mishaps on the way over? I got stuck in some sort of race."

Accompanied by some rather curvaceous ladies. Because Queen.

A bike? Well, look at that. Cain arches his eyebrow in half-and half approval and oh really. Because as bikes go, that's one weird-looking one. The front wheel is about five times too small, for starters - but if it ain't broke, he sure won't fix it.

"Got caught in fake rain, ended up singing and dancing up and down the curb for a bit." He shrugs, not concerned enough to make a big deal of it.

"I got an instant-dry-spell right after, though."

Well. Instant, maybe, but not all inclusive. He brushes his hand over his hair, which just happens to be a bit damp. Hat in hand, though. He never leaves the house without it, after all.

"I think I'll have something hot to drink with lunch. Want a coffee? My treat."

Edited (one too many thoughs makes my eye twitch) 2012-08-22 11:25 (UTC)

Don't look at it too closely, it may be mistaken for a poor motorcycle substitution. Not that Glitch would ever be compelled to do something like that, it's just easier to get around town with also exercise oh look at those dancing Extras up the block.

(Incidentally the band from that hat is in a box on a shelf in the little house's study. Right.)

All meta aside, Glitch nods gravely and pat's Cain's (damp) shoulder.

"Wish I'd seen that. Oh well, mental pictures'll do." Those can get embellished with impunity, so sayeth the cheeky grin. He gestures for the door. "And yes, thank you, coffee'll be excellent."

Hmm, yes, coffee. The thought of it compels him to sing-song "Do do do-do, do do do-do," under his breath as they stroll inside.

Edited 2012-08-24 15:47 (UTC)

"Yeah, I bet you do," Cain grouses fondly, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder to usher him indoors (already). The atmosphere reminds him of the dimly lit places he sometimes went with his classmates after a day of phys training or skill tests. It smells like dark beer and old, polished wood and rich, humble cooking.

"Go on, pick a table." If Wyatt's the one to do so, they'll end up with a clear view of all exits, and how much fun is that?

So Glitch picks a booth which offers some bit of privacy and also a view of one exit, a stained glass lampshade and a candle. He settles onto the bench seat, one foot tucked under him and he spins the menu around to read it.

And everything has a little spark, a little spring, as he waits for coffee to appear.

Cain orders two coffees at the counter, then shrugs out of his coat on the way over to the booth - it's a nice compromise, ticking all the boxes to keep them both comfortable.

Nodding his chin at the menu, "Find anything good?" then draping his not entirely dry coat over the seat opposite Glitch. Hat too.

Yes, buddy, this means you need to scoot. Contrary to popular belief, being face to face is not always the best strategy, even when having lunch with a friend, and a prospective talk about Something or Someone Good in his life.

He isn't ever cruel without good cause: wouldn't want to make Glitch uncomfortable by staring him down out of some ingrained, unsuitable old habit.

Glitch scoots, all accommodating. "I'm pretty sure I have."

Time will tell but he thinks it might be very good, for himself and (he thinks) for Bagoas. And he really wants to tell Cain about it but first there needs to be some stringing along and probably singing because...

Well, as much as he occasionally sorta likes this stupid town it seems to adore him even more. So he grins, peers at the menu, and puts one index finger to his lips, the other on the list of salads.

"There's this, it's new and...probably refreshing and..." And when did this lace get a piano?

..."Probably the same time this latest thing started up," Cain replies, taking a gander at the list of dishes. Salads? Meh, no, don't feel like a salad, more like...

"I think I'm gonna go for the grilled salmon. You can steal as many fries as you want."

He pushes the tray of coffee cups and sugar packs and those tiny ridiculous milk thingies closer to his friend. Might as well start on the coffee while it's hot.

"So...you're going for light and refreshing, lately?"

"And sweet," he says, adding the ususal two sugars to his coffee. Yes, the salad with mixed greens and goat cheese and strawberry slices, and maybe he'll treat himself to a pint of that summer ale before going back to work.

But first, since apparnetly they're not really talking about food, he hesitates.

"I don't...I'm not rushing into anything, but--"

A little chimey, expetant note comes from the piano and oh gods it's going to be like this, isn't it? Glitch gives Cain a look equal parts apology and hating the aliens. Singing will commence in three...two...

They haven't really been talking about food since they agreed to meet for lunch. Except for the salmon and fries bit. That was all about the food.

But, anyhow--

Wyatt listens, watches, and Tip in a dress, it is good to see Glitch like this - uplifted and relaxed and smiling.

--and about to burst into song, if the piano is anything to go by. He idly wonders if there's any way to dodge this, or if the mere attempt will mean he's pulled right into it.

He decides to do the one reasonable thing. Sit very, very still and just let everything unfold around him. "Mhmm?"

And you know those fries are getting raided with impunity. Anyhow:

"There's a man that works in my shop who is very inspirational. Strike that: I'll say sensational because he's just that kind."

Glitch goes on, about smiles and treats and music and as he does so he climbs over the back of the bench into the (empty) booth behind them, then...okay there is way too much choreography to explain here. Suffice to say that he ends up standing at the end of their booth by the time chorus rolls around. There is much expansive arm gesturing and the wait staff joins in for coordinated harmonizing.

"Bagrat, the Persian boy, brings me comfort, brings me joy. Oh Bagrat, the Persian boy! I love him, I love him, I--"

The piano clunks on an off-note, the cello from nowhere groans to a stop, and Glitch is frozen in perfect gump-in-the-headlights shock. Damn music, damn his own lack of a filter, damn his heart for never leaving anything half-done...and bless all of that because it's true. So there's a smile and a nod as he finishes:

"I love him." He pauses, shrugs, scuffs the floor with his toe and tugs at his hair. "But it's more...less...we need a handy word for stuff that's complicated and simple at the same time. It's Taxonian."

Wyatt watches, a bit baffled at first, then a smidge charmed, and somewhere along the last stretch he's grinning. Very near bursting into laughter, because, well, wow.

He pushes out of the booth, still grinning and kind of actually humming with chuckles as he wraps his arms around Glitch in a bear hug, and quite resolutely lifts him up for a spin.

The grinning gets one of Glitch's more mixed expressions, a little lip curl and nose scrunch a head-tilty squinting. But then he's picked up and there's a genuine squawk, and his arms go around Cain for security and his feet kick the air for purchase. By the end of the spin he's laughing too, a mix of elation and relief.

"All right, all right!" he declares. "I-I'm guessing you approve?"

Uh, wait a minute.

"Did you just say compulsive singing?"

Please do not tell her you said compulsive singing.

"Yes, I said compulsive singing."

We're just gonna drive that point home.

"Like those show with folks expressing their feelings in song? Yeah. It lasted a month last time."

It's just a blank, unblinking hard stare, but for a moment it's not out of the realm of possibility that Gwen might cry.

Thankfully for both, she doesn't. "Taxon: The Musical?" Groan. Maybe they'll send them on that boat again.

Haha. Ha. No.

"There are worse things, y'know," Glitch begins with a shrug that...gradually becomes an expansive gesture.

"There's been trials and blow-ups a'plenty,
There've been zombies and horrors galore.
You want vampires? I've known twenty.
Save your cares, no big deal,
Fret no mooooore--"

Pause. Blink. "Yeah, exactly."

Edited 2012-08-12 21:59 (UTC)

She's about to reply, and then gives him a quick look of bemusement. What's with the dramatic shrug...?

Oh.

Oh no.

Suddenly the tablet is a snake and Glitch its fangs, and it's just luck Gwen doesn't manage to toss it aside like they might bite her. Instead she stares intently at the screen. "Oh my God, you...you just burst into song. You rhymed. Did you just make that up?"

Glitch nods carefully, his expression just a bit pained.

"Yeah, I did, and...I didn't so much make it up as it just sorta came out. From somewhere. I dunno if they're making an example of me or what but...it wasn't conscious, it just seemed like the thing to do."

"Good. Great. That's...seriously?"

Gwen doesn't sing. Gwen doesn't hum. And she certainly doesn't want her well-learned cat-burglarizing agility to be used for jazz hands.

"I totally jinxed it. I was just telling Azadellia the other day about how this kind of stuff doesn't happen often. These city-wide--"

Glitches.

"...Things?"

Here have a dead-eyed stare.

"I really need to...impart the whole 'don't jinx it' thing," Glitch says with a sigh. "But it'd probably have happened anyway, don't blame yourself. How do you know Azkadellia?"

Keeping track of people who know his people is important and all.

Keeping in mind these two are buddies, how best to say: 'She got me in trouble for stealing and so I almost got her arrested instead?'

"Saw her in the mall."

Yep, that's about right. Read into that little 'I'm not telling you everything' twinkle in her eye as you will. But for another nugget of truth, she adds, "She kinda got me struck by lightning in the middle of a store. I guess she was having an off day."

...best buddies aren't exactly the words Glitch'd use but yeah, good idea keeping the deets from him for now.

The mall. Oh would that girl ever finish sho-- wait WHAT?

"I...would say so," Glitch agrees with a nod. "Is-- are you okay?"

"It's fine," she assures, gesturing vaguely to herself whether or not Glitch can see it through the tablet. "It's kinda like throwing water on a fish. I think she was having trouble finding...shoes, or something."

Note to self: monitor Az's shopping habits. And temper levels.

"Glad you're okay," he says. "And, well, good luck with this whole song-and-dance thingy. Can you-- are you musically inclined at all?"

To that, Gwen gives a dead, blank stare.

"Not...as much as you," she manages with a frown.

...whoops.

"It'll be okay," he says with a jerky little nod. "And nobody's gonna judge you cuz this is one of those things that happens to everybody. We'll laugh about it later."

She doesn't look too sure of that. She looks like she might throw up, actually, but she manages a nod, really really wanting to take his words seriously.

"Okay," and then, more sure: "Okay."

"Okay," Glitch says one more time and nods. "All else fails? Lock your tablet up somewhere, that'll reduce the audeicne size if it comes to that."

"Singing?"

Madelyne looks concerned. Yes, concerned might well be the right description there.

"Would there be ... other musical events that might be happening too?"

"Dancing," Glitch replies, deadpan. "Really I don't know how...extensive it'll be. They might be changing stuff up from last time, it's been a couple annuals."

"Singing and dancing. That's just... great. Just...." Madelyne rubs the bridge of her nose before looking back toward Glitch.

"Well, at least that explains why all of the Extras are now thinking in musical nonsense instead of just the usual babble. Seriously, it gets worse when they're all rhyming."

Sorry there's not better mews, Mads. Glitch shrugs a little sheepishly, then frowns as she continues.

"Hang on, you can...hear - is that the right word? - them? All the time?"

Interest: pinged!

"Hear works, it is closest to what it feels like, though sometimes it isn't even close," she shakes her head and gives him a small smile, sort of amused.

"Usually it is like white noise. You know, like day to day conversations that happen in the background and the general noise you get in any large city. Except here, there is a weird uniformity... except it is more of an enforced disharmony. Like they'd all be thinking the same things at the same time if they same thing were happening to all of them but different things are happening, so they're not."

And she has /no/ idea if that make sense to Glitch at all but it is as good as it gets right now, "So, while, yes, I can sort of 'hear' everyone in a radius, I couldn't actively 'listen' to anywhere near that many without being overwhelmed. That's one of the biggest problems new telepaths have, is learning how to control that difference. And when everyone started humming or singing or thinking in songs or rhythms, it was a noticeable change in the not-a-pattern."

But this is interesting and Glitch props his chin on his hand to listen, nodding to show he understood.

"Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box. They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe." Pause, blink. "Oh, I like that one. Um. So is it like that with us non-Extra people? The hearing without listening, is it all the time or..."

No accusation there at all, just curiosity. He's thinking back to when he'd sent her to warn Cain about the Witch, and how she'd been able to "hear" him then.

"Not quite. There is a murmuring but there is a sort of critical mass with people where if there are enough of them it gets 'loud' enough that I can't block it all out. There are few enough 'real' people here that I can better ignore the thoughts. Strong emotion, though, tends to make ...." Here Madelyne pauses, realizing that the hearing metaphor sort of breaks down here but then she pushes on anyway.

"It changes the texture of it, it makes it spikey or rough or... something different, so it stands out from everything else."

"That's amazing," he says, grinning. "There are a...people in my world we call Viewers. All of them are psychic to some degree and I wish I remembered more, there might be books in the-- no, wait, the libray's gone."

He'd suggest asking Azkadellia but he's about ninety-eight percent certain that'd go horribly.

"Anyway, there was one that I traveled with a bit. He could see the past, sometimes, and he was very good at reading hearts."

"Thoughts are hard because you get the thought and you understand the thought but you don't always get the context for it. The more different the person, the harder it can be to understand what the thought really /means/. This is why communication with aliens is possible but tricky. Sometimes it is easier to try to speak in emotions and concepts than words if the minds are very different."

Madelyne shakes her head, "Then again, that can be just as bad, depending. Emotions are chemical as well as thought, so they're tricky things. Hearts are notoriously challenging things."

Glitch nods faintly. "Challenging. Yeah, that they are."

Challenging and complex, robust and impractically breakable. He's glad he (mostly) just has his own to contend with.

"Thank you for explaining, maddy, I always like picking up new things. And hey, you didn't sing once!" His face fell. "...maybe it is just me."

"I can hear them. It isn't just you. I'm sure they're just... waiting for the best time for me."

And, of course, by best, she means worst.

"I haven't had anyone interested in learning about it for awhile. It is always interesting to talk it through since people understand differently."

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054 ± [visual / location: langwe & gale's] all our favorites were playing

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[visual / locked] gossipy teenage girls <3 XD

[visual / locked] they so are tho :3

[visual / locked > location!] yes, totally

[lolcation~]

[location] biiiiicycle! biiiiiicycle! :D

[location] what even is this tag

[location] oh shush

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I've given up on filking the whole thing, use your imagination~

Oh my imagination is expansive :D <3<3<3<3<3~

it was either that or waiting another week as I tore my hair out XD

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